


Drawing Blanks

by Romanadvoratnalundar (audreyhepburns_eyebrows)



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyhepburns_eyebrows/pseuds/Romanadvoratnalundar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She draws a scene that was stewing in the back of her mind for a while, the pen digging into the paper so hard that she can feel the wooden desk beneath her being scratched. </p><p>There is a sharp knock on the door and she ignores it, continuing to scribble on the pages as whoever was knocking enters.</p><p>Aftermath of Gallifrey: Ascension, mild spoilers about what happens to Castellan Wynter also.</p><p>A snapshot from my NaNoWriMo project</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawing Blanks

It was late by the time she was able to sit down and rest, there was so many things that needed to be done and everyone knew that their Madam President had finally returned, even if she wasn't in the best state at the moment.

She nearly collapses into the chair once all the arrangements are made, and it takes her a moment to realize that yes, she is finally home. She lets out a giggle at that for some reason, which both shocks her and unnerves her. Romana supposes that maybe it was an occasion to smile, for she was now free to do what she pleases without the constant fear or worry hanging over her like a corpse. But, she was never really good at emotions in the first place. So she wasn't too sure if it was weird or not.

The time passes by achingly slowly for her, moment by moment and soon she feels herself pick up a pen. She has a pen? Yes she does because she’s home now. She has a right to own pens, and paper, and computers, and data banks. She lays a lone sheet of paper out in front of her, and before she even has time to think about it, the pen hits paper and suddenly, she drawing.

She draws a scene that was stewing in the back of her mind for a while, the pen digging into the paper so hard that she can feel the wooden desk beneath her being scratched. There is a sharp knock on the door and she ignores it, continuing to scribble on the pages as whoever was knocking enters.

It’s Narvin. And she’s never been so happy to see his face in her lives, yet she is still occupied with the drawing in front of her. Romana can feel the look Narvin is giving her, and it's a strange one, all confused and muddled...Oh Narvin. He sits down in a nearby chair and watches her closely, silently wishing that she would look up and acknowledge him for one second. But, the shock of being home was starting to hit him as well, and so he watches her.

Romana draws the scene: A young man, lying in one of the infirmary beds, covered in bandages and ointment, hands crushed, tongue missing and still gushing blood in some places, and as Narvin looks over to examine the drawing, he realizes it is the late Castellan Wynter. The first victim of Pandora. And his hearts lurch.

Before he can do anything to stop her, Romana quickly replaces the sheet with a fresh one, the completed drawing being discarded on top of a pile of official looking papers and treatises. She starts to draw Irving Braxiatel, dead eyes stare back at them both. The drawings unnerve him, but he lets her continue, she needed to let this out and if the desk is destroyed by the end of it than so be it.

He lets her draw a dull portrait of Leela, her hair reduced to a dull grey; unseeing dead eyes staring into the distance as she reaches for something she cannot see. She completes the drawing in moments, her frail frame barely holding her upright as she continues to furiously scribble the thoughts that won’t come out as words, words that won’t come out as she continues to be unfurled by the thoughts assaulting her mind.

There’s a theme with the drawings, he starts to realise when she finishes a portrait of the Doctor in his past incarnation. Bulging eyes and a malice filled smile marring his face and twisting it into something seen only in a nightmare, his hand is reaching out offering a jelly baby as it turns to dust and smoke.

They’re all people in her life that’s she’s wronged somehow. Or people who've wronged her in the past.

She can feel her hearts pounding at an incredible rate, almost as if they were about to burst from her chest as she furiously scribbles on sheet after sheet of paper, unwilling to stop anytime soon despite the eyes fixated on her. She cannot stop. She’s tried but her body is on autopilot at this point, and no matter how hard she tries to regain control she can’t.

“Put the pen down Romana” She can hear Narvin say, calmly. She doesn't listen.

She draws Narvin. Soulless eyes boring into her soul as she draws more dark, dull grey hair. More people that she had harmed in someway. More people who probably won’t be able to recover from the many ordeals they’ve been through.

“Romana listen to me now”

She throws that sheet aside and begins to ink the final picture. And he is yelling for her to stop, but she can’t. She’s not allowed to, and she knows that she is probably scaring him right now but she can’t stop. She mustn't stop.

“Stop yourself now Romana or I will” She hears him threaten, the chair he is sitting in screeching as he stands up, moving towards her. She doesn't listen.

The final picture is coming to mind, the pen is almost out of ink by the time she is almost finished with it, and she can hear Narvin shouting at her at this point, taking the pen forcibly from her grasp and forcing her to stand as she struggles against it, it eventually ends with him holding her in a tight embrace, the pen discarded somewhere on the floor as she falls limply into his arms as she gives up, taken out of her trance at last.

“Even with a TARDIS you can't change the past Romana, what happened happened and we can't change that” He tells her, hugging her in a comforting way because she needs this just as much as he does, and for once she lets herself be held in his arms, and despite the touch being mildly uncomfortable, she allows herself to relax in his arms. 

How long has it been? She asks him as he sets her down on a chair, and he replies that it has almost been a few days, and that everyone has been extremely worried about her. And when she finally looks up he can see that she is crying, and he knows that despite the fact that there are no tears.

And he realizes that he’s just as scared as she is.


End file.
